Im so f****** h**** for art hoes. I want to f*** a coked-out tumblr hipster DIY aesthetic astrology thot in her lip gloss DSL mouth. I want to c** all over a girl with thick frame glasses and edge dyed bobcut bangs. Everytime I hear a THICK, waist-high-jean-clad braindead slutty wiccan minx say “yikes,” “y’all,” “big mood,” “this is a bop,” or “gay disaster” I get an uncontrollable urge to run up to her and fondle her d cups and sweaty thighs. I want to pour ropes onto their contoured cheeks and neotenous faces and rhinoplastized nose. I want to finger an art hoe thru her jean overalls while pretending to be interested while she talks about van gogh and arctic monkeys and how david foster wallace fans s*** and gilles deleuze and VICE news and ‘union pool’ in williamsburg and steven universe and homeopathy and saveur magazine and taking adderall to pass exams. IM SO. F******. H****